


red dust

by mysteriousAkavir (skirfer)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-05
Updated: 2014-04-05
Packaged: 2018-01-18 04:29:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1415149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skirfer/pseuds/mysteriousAkavir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She looks at their hands, entwined in their sleep, and thinks no matter how close she gets she still treats her like a stranger.</p><p>Series of semi-related one shots with a female Amell and Morrigan. Spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	red dust

**Author's Note:**

> i havent written in like 200 years. maker have mercy on my soul.

"Those are Chasind tattoos, are they not?" She asks one day, after the Warden settles into her camp after asking about the wilds she grew up in.

"Perhaps."

"And what, pray tell, is a Circle mage doing with Chasind tattoos?"

"Wearing them," she quips, picking up a branch and crouching to poke at the small campfire.

"Ha. What a clever Warden. 'Tis a shame that there are not more of you."

As the Warden tends to the fire, Morrigan studies the tattoos on her face. Swirling patterns around her eyes, points sharp as blades, with two deep black circles surrounding her eye sockets. The paint was of a dark tint, the markings themselves ominous, foreboding. Sometimes the light would jump and illuminate them, only to be absorbed by the paint's tincture. It was curious to see her irises as bright as they were.

These tattoos had lost their meaning over time - surely worthless to a Circle mage lest they be merely decorative. Even then, they were sufficiently gaudy enough to put off any passerby, not serving to encourage conversation. That, along with her piercing glare, was enough to make sure no sane individual would converse with her. If they truly were decorative, they surely served no purpose other than to antagonize the Warden and make her seem even less approachable than she already was.

She knew of the Chasind's penchant for such tattoos, certain tribes using them to rank their warriors and hunters and such. Their shamans, magi as they were, primarily marked themselves with bodily tattoos as well as face markings, and all members of a tribe were to have certain quirks in their paint to distinguish from different groups. Infinitesimally small details were what distinguished individuals from each other, markings given over the span of a lifetime. At least, this is what she gleaned from Flemeth's brief but terrifying discussions on her Chasind lovers. She never met a one, and was still skeptical that a Circle mage with a surname as Fereldan as "Amell" would ever be connected to the Chasind.

"Why do you look at me?"

Morrigan jumps. Only mildly. She does still make an effort to disguise the movement. "Where did you get them?"

"I assume in the Wilds," she responded. The Warden crossed her legs and the embers glowed a little brighter.

She laughs in response. "Assume? Can you really not remember thousands of needle pricks on your skin? Followed by ink, perhaps also by infection or pustules? I would assume such a thing would be a memorable experience, truly."

Solona's eyes darken. "You would be mistaken," she answers sharply. It was not often she was reminded of the missing memories, the spots in her story that were blank and empty. When she does not dream of darkspawn, she dreams of sounds or smells or feelings. Stovepots clanking together, coupled with ragged leather gloves, and the dull eyes of someone she could sense was much, much older than she. But there was nothing of substance, nothing of value, nothing to tide her over or clarify, only multiply the questions she already had. It infuriated her. "What makes you - what makes you so sure you are allowed to ask me these inane questions?"

Morrigan, while fascinated with the conversational topic, is nonetheless put off by the emotional display. Right now it was clear she could not be pressed further. "There is no need for such defensiveness, Warden, 'twas merely a question out of curiosity. I will stop now, if you wish."

Solona draws in a breath, closing her eyes and meditating for a succinct moment. "Thank you. I apologize."

A short pause followed before she spoke once more. "I will tell you what I remember."

**Author's Note:**

> im just planning to dump whatever writings i might have for these two here, probably not chronologically, just as they come. constructive criticism always appreciated.


End file.
